But even though Bridger doesn’t go there often, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t go there.
He does.
With me.
We don’t go a lot, but we do pop in every once in a while, and let me tell you… the things that man does to me when his imagination is fueled by such a deviant atmosphere is almost too overwhelming to handle. It’s why we don’t go often, as I just don’t know that my heart could take that type of excitement on a frequent basis.
For the most part, Bridger and I have become homebodies, preferring to spend our time quietly hiking on the ranch with Belle, cooking together, or reading the paper over a lazy breakfast. Every night is when we really come together, just the two of us, and in every touch given and every word spoken, we reaffirm our love for each other.
Just like I’m getting ready to do in front of our family and friends.
I take a step toward Bridger and Belle, measuring my stride to the tune of the “Wedding March”. Bridger and Belle look at me as I walk down the aisle. I watch as he inclines his head to my daughter, whispering something that’s meant only for her to hear. She grins from ear to ear. He turns his focus back on me and his eyes are blistering with excitement, love, and pure happiness.
I smile back at him and hold his gaze the entire time I traverse the distance between us.
When I reach him, he switches Belle to his opposite hip, never once thinking about putting her down, and steps in close to me, his arm snaking around my back. He gives my ass a quick squeeze, causing everyone behind us to snicker, and then pulls me tight to his side.
Adrian stands in front of us and gives Bridger a chastising look before he looks past us and says, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together…”
Bridger turns his head and looks down at me, the same exact moment I turn and look up at him.
He grins and whispers. “Love you, Mags.”
“Love you too.”
*
Bridger
I watch as Maggie tears up the dance floor with her girls—Callie, Sloane, Cat, and Auralie—and Christ, my wife has some moves. I shouldn’t be surprised because the things she can do with those hips are beyond astounding.
My wife.
Doesn’t seem strange at all to me.
In fact, it feels rather perfect.
Someone moves into my line of sight. I look up to see Aunt Gayle standing there, holding a sleeping Belle. I stand up, lean my head to the side to see her little face, and grin at how peaceful she looks as she slumbers away on Gayle’s shoulder.
“Randall and I are going to take Belle back to your house,” Gayle says in a whisper, despite the fact that some loud dance pop bullshit is playing right now. “We’ll see you there later tonight.”
“Okay,” I say, putting my hand on Belle’s head before I lean in and kiss her cheek. Then I give Gayle a wink. “But don’t wait up for us.”
Gayle laughs before she turns to the dance floor and heads over to break up the dance party so Maggie can say goodnight to her daughter.
Well, strike that… our daughter.
I’ve got an attorney working to get Zeke’s parental rights terminated so I can adopt her, but regardless if that happens, she’s my daughter too. Gayle and Randall volunteered to stay with Belle so Maggie and I can take a real honeymoon. We’re heading to Hawaii tomorrow for ten days of sun, surf, and a whole lot of dirty fucking.
I sit back down in my chair and watch as Maggie stops dancing to give Belle a kiss before doing the same to her aunt. Her parents didn’t come to the wedding, and that’s because they weren’t invited. Maggie made overtures to them, but they’re being a little unforgiving that she would dare to have done something so stupid as to put them in danger.
Maybe they’ll come around, maybe not. Doesn’t matter because she has a new family now.
I turn to see Adrian taking a seat beside me. We’re silent for a while, watching the girls dancing again, but now they’re joined by their men. Cain, Logan, Woolf, and Rand all out there boogying without any dignity or skills. Maggie turns to look at me and waves cheerily, but she doesn’t beckon me out there. I told her I’d give her whatever her heart desired for a wedding—turns out she wanted a traditional church service with Adrian marrying us and a small party after—but I told her the one thing I absolutely would not do was dance except for slow songs with her.
She immediately granted that wish, more than happy to get her church service and me stuffed into a tuxedo.
“I’m so proud of you, Bridger,” Adrian says beside me.
“I did good, didn’t I?” I ask, my eyes drinking in Maggie.
He knows I’m talking about Maggie, and Maggie alone.
“She’s your soul mate in every sense of the word,” Adrian says, but then in a wise voice that Adrian has perfected on me over the years, which means I straighten up and really put on my listening ears, he says, “But I mean I’m proud of the man you’ve become. You’re caring, generous, and loyal to your friends. You’re fair, honest, and protective of what’s yours. If I were to have a son, I’d want him to be just like you.”
And fuck… that gets me choked up. I turn to look at him, not even abashed by the wet in my eyes. “We may not be related by blood, Adrian, but you’re the father who was taken away from me too soon. God gave me a second chance with you.”
Adrian’s own eyes mist up, and he nods at me.
“I love you,” I tell him, and I’m surprised it’s the first time I’ve laid those words on his doorstep. Just like when I told Maggie that for the first time and it was oh so fucking easy, I have to marvel that it’s taken me this long to say it to the man who saved me in every sense of the word.
“I love you too, Bridger,” he says, and then his eyes cut back to Maggie. “So, how about you two get started on giving me another grandchild?”
He means “another” because he already considers Belle to be his granddaughter.
“Already ahead of you,” I say without taking my eyes off Maggie. I’m only forced to tear my gaze away from my wife when Adrian’s hand clamps down on my shoulder.
He stares at me with shock and awe on his face. “She’s pregnant?”
“Yup,” I say, beaming. “Two months.”
“No wonder you wanted a fast wedding,” Adrian says with a grin.
“Nah…” I wave him off. “I would have married her a hell of a lot sooner, but these things apparently take some planning. The pregnancy wasn’t a big surprise because we got rid of her IUD pretty soon after we got back together.”
“A baby,” Adrian says in wonder. “I hope it’s a boy.”
“I hope it’s like Maggie,” I add on, and he laughs.
As if she can sense she’s being talked about, Maggie abruptly stops spinning and turns our way. I crook my finger at her, and that’s all it takes. She leaves her posse on the dance floor, picks up her dress, and runs barefoot to me. She ditched her high heels an hour ago.
Maggie throws herself onto my lap, swinging her legs toward Adrian so she can look at him. “Thank you again, Adrian. The ceremony was everything I’d hoped it would be.”
“My pleasure, Mags,” he says, and I love how Adrian has picked up my special nickname for her.
“I told Adrian you’re pregnant,” I say as I lean in and kiss her neck. It’s moist with sweat from dancing, and I flick my tongue against her skin.
She shudders and leans into me, but addresses Adrian. “If it’s a boy, we’re going to name him Adrian.”
I lean my chin on Maggie’s shoulder and watch as Adrian’s eyes get wet again.
“And,” I say, reaching a hand out and gripping his shoulder, “if it’s a girl, we’re going to name her Adrienne.”
With a choked voice, Adrian stammers, “I’m honored.”
I start getting choked up myself again and squeeze Maggie harder. As if sensing that the men folk are the ones who wear the panties in this conversation, Maggie jumps off my lap. She spins and gives me a quick kiss before she pull
s Adrian out of his seat. “Come on, Adrian. Come dance with us.”
Adrian laughs and follows her out on the dance floor, proceeding to show all the young ones just how it’s done. Maggie bumps and grinds and twirls around with happiness, her eyes coming to rest on me more than once. I smile back at her, imagine more than once peeling her out of that dress, and not for the first time since Maggie took me back, I utter up a small prayer of thanks to God for seeing fit to give me an amazing life.
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The Wicked Horse is expanding!
You are cordially invited to the attend the grand opening of The Wicked Horse Vegas with the release of Wicked Favor (The Wicked Horse Vegas, Book #1) on June 5, 2017. Keep reading for the synopsis and an exclusive look at the prologue of Wicked Favor.
Click HERE to pre-order Wicked Favor now.
As the owner of The Wicked Horse, an elite sex club located along the Vegas Strip, Jerico Jameson never spends the night alone. Gorgeous, ripped, and totally alpha, Jerico doesn’t grant favors and will rarely give you the time of day—unless he wants you in his bed. So when the sister of his sworn enemy shows up asking for help, saying no should be easy. But when Jerico takes one look at her and sees an opportunity to help this beautiful woman while exacting revenge on her brother, he’s not about to pass that up.
Beaten and bruised, Trista Barnes is running out of options, and Jerico is her last chance to get out of the mess she’s in. She doesn’t know why Jerico despises her brother so much, but as long as he can help her, she doesn’t care. Jerico offers her safety while opening her up to a sinful world she never knew existed.
As she succumbs to Jerico’s erotic charm, Trista lets herself fall into the wicked world of guilt free pleasure with no regrets. Under his strong alpha hand, she blooms, and so does Jerico’s possessiveness. But what happens when Trista finds out she was a pawn in Jerico’s game all along, and that the price for his favor was steeper than she ever imagined – her heart.
Prologue
Jerico
“Looks fucking unbelievable, Jerico,” I hear Cain say from behind me and I turn away from the bar where I’d been sipping at a bottled water while I waited.
Cain Bonham is a good friend, and we’ve been tight ever since we served together in the Marine Corps. He’s been living in Wyoming since he got out but we keep in frequent contact. The other man walking beside him I don’t know all that well, but what I do know, I like.
Bridger Payne would be a scary looking motherfucker if I was actually afraid of anything. He’s got that look in his eyes like you would never want to cross him, which is a good thing I don’t intend to. On the contrary, we’re in business together now and so his success is my success and vice versa.
His gaze moves left and right and back again as he takes in the Social Room. It’s the first place you walk into when you walk into The Wicked Horse Vegas. It’s long and rectangular with a bar running along one wall done in Brazilian rosewood trimmed in chrome. There are no stools at the bar but there are several velour seats and couches done in muted colors of taupe, cream, gray and brown. This room is sedate, elegant and designed to encourage conversation over a cocktail or two, however I’ve imposed a three drink maximum. I don’t like dealing with drunks and this isn’t a club where you come to party.
Bridger’s eyes come to mine and I can tell he’s impressed. It’s confirmed when he reaches a hand out for me to shake and says, “The drawings and pictures you sent don’t do it justice.”
“Good to see you,” is how I reply, shaking his hand. We’ve had several in person meetings with me either flying to Wyoming or him flying to Vegas to discuss the club.
Then I turn to Cain who I greet with a manly clasping of hands as we pull into each other and give slaps on the back. A bro version of a hug.
“Sloane and I are so coming here to play once you open up,” Cain says with a grin. I’ve not met Sloane but Cain’s talked about her enough that I know she’s got a sexually adventurous spirit and that they play together at the Wicked Horse in Wyoming. Lucky man to have a partner like that.
“You haven’t even seen the fun stuff up close,” I tell him with a laugh as I turn to a set of heavy, wooden double doors that separate the Social Room from the rest of the complex. Beyond these doors, hedonism awaits.
The Wicked Horse Vegas is a sex club, pure and simple. It’s membership based and there is no exchange of money for sex. Rather, you pay a membership fee which entitles you to entrance to the club. Finding someone to fuck is up to you, and when you do, there are a variety of places to do so as well as certain rules to obey.
Once you walk through the double doors, you come to a semi-circle foyer that has the same heavy paneled walls and Italian marble as The Social Room. Cain and Bridger follow me, commenting on the artistry of the decor I’d chosen. I’d been to Bridger’s original Wicked Horse in Wyoming and this is a far cry from that place.
From the foyer, there are five hallways branching off like spokes on a wheel, each closed off by a carved wooden door. There are signs above each door that read Waterfall Room, Deck, Orgy Room, The Silo—which is a nod to the original Wicked Horse. The fifth hallway’s sign says “Private” and that houses my office, the entrance to my apartment and the employees’ locker room.
“The Wicked Horse takes up about sixty percent of this floor,” I tell the men as I take them through the door to the Waterfall Room. “The other forty percent is my apartment and our offices.”
The Wicked Horse Vegas sits on the 46th floor of The Onyx casino. It also happens to be the top floor, and while not the tallest casino on the Strip, it’s tall enough that from the outdoor deck you can get an amazing view of the city. We’re leasing this space from the owner of the casino, who is a friend of Bridger’s named Woolf Jennings. He owns this casino through various subsidiary corporations put in place to distance his name from the sin of Las Vegas while availing himself of the huge amounts of money the house makes from gamblers thinking they can win.
The hallways to each room are short, also paneled and laid with Italian marbled tile, but when you reach the room you seek, that is where the sophisticated elegance stops and a different sort of vibe is presented.
We reach the Waterfall Room and Cain whistles through his teeth in appreciation as he takes it in. The room itself is circular with a pool in the center, also circular. In the center of the pool is a platform about fifteen feet in diameter that hovers right above the water and from which a warm cascade of water pours down from the ceiling. What makes the waterfall so spectacular is that it actually falls through and past a sleek crystal ceiling light which is nothing more than long strings of lit crystals that hang down in various lengths above the pool. The water sparkles with a million refracting lights as it passes by the clear sparkling gems.
The waterfall is a beautiful centerpiece to the room but it’s functional as well. The platform can hold up to four people on it that might want to fuck under the spray of warm water.
Around the edge of the pool, the flooring is black cement done in a super fine texture with silver sparkles in it that prevents slipping but doesn’t hurt the feet. Most people in the waterfall room wear bathing suits or nothing at all. No one ever wears shoes.
Set around the pool are a variety of lounging areas which consist of two L-shaped low backed couches set together to form a U-shaped but not touching so there is room to walk in between them. The open end of the “U” faces the pool so you can choose to walk down sloping steps from your couch into the water for a refreshing dip. The room itself is richly colored. The couches are done in water repellent vinyl of deep purple that shimmers. While some people choose to just lounge and watch what’s happening, most of the time those couches are used for sex. Vinyl is the name of the game as it’s easily cleaned in between uses. There are silver pleated curtains draping the double glass doors that le
ad out to the Deck, and swags of fabric in the same silver hang in arcs from the center of the ceiling starting just outside the waterfall to the perimeter. It sort of reminds me of what the inside of a tent would look like that belonged to a grand Sheik or something. Or just a really fancy circus tent, which the things that will go on in here could be considered circus-like.
We walk around the pool to the glass doors and as I step through I say, “You can access the outer deck by either the Waterfall or Orgy rooms, or the hallway off the foyer that runs in between the two rooms. The only room that you can’t get to it is from The Silo. I’ll show you that last.”
The Deck is so much more than just an outdoor deck. It’s a place where you can get a drink or a snack at one of the two large cabana stands outside. What really sets your teeth on edge when you step out is that the entire deck is made of a thick, clear acrylic like flooring that lets you see forty-six stories down. There are also clear acrylic chaises to fuck on and let me tell you, there’s nothing like fucking a woman on her back while you are seemingly floating in the air. It’s also not for the faint of heart or those with a fear of heights.
The perimeter of the deck has a ten foot plexiglass wall that is two way. The people on the Deck can see out, but those in Vegas can’t see in. While The Onyx isn’t the tallest casino in Vegas, the way it’s situated on the strip, no building stands over it thus privacy is pretty much guaranteed unless a chopper flies over. Still, the two-way glass provides the necessary cover so we don’t violate public nudity laws. The bottom side of the clear deck is covered with reflective material which also has a two-way effect, so someone on the ground with binoculars can’t get a free peep show by looking up. A lot of thought went into this Deck before we had it built out.
“Jesus,” Bridger mutters as he steps out tentatively. “I think I might puke.”
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